


Godparent

by zombified_queer



Category: Bugsnax (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Other, Possibly Unrequited Love, mostly hurt little comfort, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29833299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombified_queer/pseuds/zombified_queer
Summary: It's too dangerous for Eggabell to bring the pup with her on these expeditions to find Elizabert. Floofty doesn't mind watching the pup in secret. Mostly.
Relationships: Eggabell Batternugget/Elizabert Megafig, Floofty Fizzlebean & Eggabell Batternugget
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Godparent

Eggabell fusses with the swaddling blanket, clearly not wanting to leave the pup.

"You could stay," Floofty suggests. "It would increase the viability of the pup."

Eggabell shakes her head. "I can't. They need Lizbert too. I'm...I don't want to raise them alone."

It's quiet, except for the rain pattering on the roof. Eggabell adjusts the swaddling blanket before handing the pup off. 

"They will be kept safe," Floofty assures Eggabell. "Return soon and...stay out of danger, Doctor."

Eggabell nods. "I'll be back soon." 

She pulls the hood up on her cloak, adjusts the bag with Liz's journal on her shoulder. And then she's gone, walking out of the hut into the rain.

Floofty sighs, tucking the little one into the crib. "Sentiment will be the death of her."

The pup sleeps through the storm. The quiet gives Floofty time to work on typing up notes. Just idle work before the pup wakes. And they will wake. Floofty knows they're not quite at the stage of sleeping through the night. 

And soon, the pup begins to fuss. Hungry. Floofty's watched them enough to know. 

A precise measurement of formula, an assembly of the bottle, and the pup latches. They're getting better at latching.

* * *

It's been two weeks. Eggabell's never been away this long, not with a pup. Floofty is starting to wear thin, frustrated at Eggabell's need for Lizbert. 

The pup's sleeping. Temperamental little thing refuses to be tucked into their crib. If Floofty so much as considers tucking them in, the pup cries and whines.

It won't be easy to keep the arrangement a secret at this rate. Their work at the research tent is gathering dust but if they leave the hut at night, even with the pup in a sling, it's too dangerous. And that's not factoring in the Bugsnax. Even one of Gramble's pets could take the pup in the blink of an eye.

Floofty sighs. "What to do with you?"

There's a knock at the door. Floofty keeps a curtain across the doorway when watching the pup. But their instinct is to hide the pup and the crib. Eggabell didn't want anyone to get their hopes up.

"Doc? I haven't seen you at the tent in a while," Triffany calls. 

The pup stirs, opening their eyes at the new voice. 

"I'm quite alright, Triffany. I simply have notes that need typing." 

"Can I come in? Seems silly to talk through a sheet."

"I..." There's no graceful way to tell Triffany to leave. "I require privacy to focus on my work."

"I see. Well, if you need anything—"

"I will be fine, Professor Lottablog."

Floofty breathes a sigh of relief when Triffany walks off. She's the last person to be trusted with any secret. And she'd try to take over pup sitting, cooing at the thing and singing to it.

The pup stares up at Floofty, curious.

"We'll introduce you to everyone soon enough," Floofty soothes. "When your mothers are ready to introduce you."

The pup chews on their paw, drooling everywhere.

* * *

It rains that night. A soothing sound, one that lulls the pup to deep enough sleep. But Floofty stays awake, candle lit and paper loaded into the typewriter. They can’t settle, can’t focus on their notes.

It’s quiet. Too quiet. 

Eggabell should have come back and collected her pup. But she didn’t. Cold dread settles in Floofty’s stomach.

Something must’ve happened. Something terrible.

Floofty watches the pup sleep. They haven’t been named, not yet. But they’re going to need one. Floofty can’t keep calling the pup “you” forever. 

They blow out the candle. It’s a decision that can wait. One more day. If Eggabell’s not back tomorrow night, Floofty will give the pup a nickname.

* * *

Floofty wakes to the sound of pawsteps. They turn over, a scalpel in hand, more than ready to fend off whoever's decided to invade their hut.

It's Filbo's little journalist friend. 

Floofty decides against gutting them. "Explain yourself."

"Floofty! I, um, Triffany got worried so I—"

"—broke into my hut in the middle of the night! Invaded my privacy! And for what?"

The pup starts to fuss. Floofty rolls their eyes, but gathers the little bundle, soothing them. It's that startled cry.

"Oh." The journalist looks uncomfortable.

"They're not my pup, obviously." Floofty glares at the journalist. "They are Elizabert and Eggabell's pup."

"Why do you have them?"

"Have you seen Eggabell recently?"

The journalist shakes their head. "Um...do you need any help? I mean pups are a lot of work."

"If you want to help, find Eggabell," Floofty tells them. "I'm hardly prepared to raise a pup on my own."

The journalist nods. "Can I hold them?"

Floofty considers it, then decides not to hand the pup over. The journalist lowers their paws. 

"Filbo could—"

"Filbo is hardly suited to pupsit." Floofty sighs, "Eggabell wants no one to know. There's too much risk on Snaktooth, too many hazards."

"But they're okay. Even with you watching them."

"I'm choosing to take that as a compliment." Floofty adjusts the swaddling blanket, the pup staring at the journalist with a sort of fascination. "Now leave."

"I can—"

"Leave," Floofty repeats.

The journalist raises their paws in a pacifying gesture. And then they leave. 

"Well, little one, I suppose the choice is no longer your mother's."

The pup continues to drool, chewing on their paw.

All day, Floofty has a sense of dread gnawing at them. The journalist's whole job is to spread obnoxious gossip and outlandish tales. And they're 'besties' with Winklesnoot, the most insufferable gossip.

Every feeding and changing, the thought of people finding out lingers in the back of Floofty's mind. But if they don't tell anyone, then Eggabell can't be upset. Not with Floofty, anyway.

The pup needs a bath. Floofty gathers water from the river, carrying it back to their hut.

"Floofty."

"Snorpington."

Snorpy stares at the sling. 

"It's not mine."

Snorpy's scowl only deepens. Floofty huffs.

"Snorpington, if you're suggesting I am a pup-napper, you've sunk to a new low."

"Whose is it?"

"Elizabert and Eggabell's." 

Snorpy cranes his neck, peering at the sleeping pup. "It...certainly doesn't look like you."

"Tell no one."

"Certainly. But you can't leave people out of the loop."

"Do you honestly believe I intended to tell no one? Eggabell wants no one to know. I am merely respecting her wishes."

"What if Lizbert comes back?"

Floofty pauses. They'd been working under the assumption Elizabert was dead. But they've no idea how they would even handle that situation. How many milestones has Lizbert missed? 

"I'm...not sure."

Snorpy nods. "You have a crib?"

"Of course."

"Good. Otherwise I'd carve one."

"I appreciate the concern, Snorpington. But I am managing."

"You look like you haven't slept in weeks."

"I've worried about Eggabell. She hasn't come back."

There's a pause, a moment of silence. Neither of the siblings needs to mention the possibility.

"Well, Floofty, it takes a village."

"I will not allow this pup to be passed around like one of Filbo's silly little dolls."

Snorpy nods. "But if you need a break..."

"You hardly know how to care for a pup."

"My offer still stands," Snorpy shrugs. 

Floofty scoffs. Taking the pup and bucket of water, they head back to their hut. 

Heating the water takes time. Time Floofty spends studying the pup's jaw. Overbite. And their fur's coming in, a delicate grey dusting. 

"I hope Eggabell won't miss your teething phase."

The pup flails their little drool-covered paws. 

"Poor thing."

* * *

Word spreads like wildfire before Floofty or the journalist can stop it. It takes a single day before everyone knows about it.

There's a polite knock at Floofty's hut. "Doc?"

"Come in."

Triffany steps inside, closing the curtain behind her. A blessing. Floofty isn't sure they could tolerate anyone else, Snorpy included. 

"Triffany."

"Doc." Triffany beams at Floofty. "What've you got there?"

"Would you be opposed to the idea of a friend or colleague borrowing the name Bronica for their pup?"

"Oh. Are they yours?"

"No." 

Triffany nods. "Well, if the little one needs a name, I don't see why not."

"It's is a temporary name," Floofty amends. "A nickname until Lizbert and Eggabell return."

"Bronica Batternugget," Triffany says. "Has a nice ring to it."

Floofty nods. "It does."

"Can I hold 'em?"

"Carefully," Floofty says firmly. 

Triffany nods in understanding, taking the little bundle carefully. "Oh this little one's got a lot of Lizbert's looks."

"Regrettably," Floofty agrees. "But we can hope the pup doesn't adopt Lizbert's penchant for danger."

"Well, y'never know, Doc. Sometimes the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and other times it rolls a ways before putting down roots."  
“I certainly hope any roots are put down far away from Lizbert.” Flooty isn’t sure what to do with their paws when not holding the pup. 

“Jealous, Doc?” Triffany teases. “I think you and Egg would have problems of your own.”

“I wouldn’t leave my partner with a pup.”

Triffany’s smile drops. She goes quiet, looking down at the pup. “D’you think Lizbert...?”

“I have no doubts Megafig is deceased.” Floofty watches the pup reach for Triffany’s vest, fascinated by zippers and pockets. “Eggabell is chasing the idea of her.”

“Doc...I mean, we have to put on a brave face.”

“Optimism serves no purpose.” 

Triffany nods. “Maybe. You know, Filbo’s buddy has been finding little clues. Maybe they’ll find Elizabert.”

“I expect nothing,” Floofty answers. 

Triffany hands the pup back. She doesn’t argue, but she seems put off by Floofty realism. 

“Doc, envy doesn’t suit you.”

Triffany leaves. Floofty sighs, rocking the pup without thinking too much about it.

* * *

There's someone in the hut. Floofty wakes, up in an instant. 

"It's just me."

"Doctor Batternugget."

Eggabell nods. She's standing by the crib, watching the pup—her pup—sleep. Floofty lights a candle. Eggabell looks so tired and so sad. 

"Doc—Eggabell," Floofty says. "You should stay in town. Rest and recover."

"But I'm so close." Eggabell's voice cracks. "I can't give up, not for our little one."

Floofty says, "I've taken to calling them Bronica. With Triffany's permission."

"Bronica." Eggabell smiles. "Bronica Megafig."

"Batternugget suits them better." Floofty regrets it the moment they say it. "Or, well, it is your decision. But..." 

"People know." Eggabell doesn't phrase it as a question. She sighs. "It's not exactly something we could've kept a secret forever."

Floofty nods. "It takes a village, Snorpy said."

"More eyes to look after them, keep them out of trouble."

"Eggabell. You're exhausted from your goose chase."

"Goose chase?" Eggabell turns, glaring at Floofty. "Do you have any idea what it's like to lose someone, Floofty? Any idea what it's like to know you're the one depriving your pup of their other parent?"

"I don't. But I do know you're exhausted and if you chase after Lizbert like this, you risk losing your pup." Floofty fixes Eggabell with a cold gaze. "They've started to roll over."

Eggabell blinks. She opens her mouth, then closes it. She shakes her head.

"Elizabert Megafig might not be dead," Floofty continues. "But the idea of her you're chasing hardly compares to the very tangible family you do have."

Eggabell sighs. "I am tired. It'd be nice not to sleep in an igloo."

"Take the cot," Floofty says. "Rest. You need it."

"Floofty?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for taking care of them." 

"I was happy to help a friend, Doctor Batternugget. Think nothing of it. Rest as long as you'd like."

"Everyone knows?"

Floofty nods. "The journalist has a penchant for gossip."

"I suppose I should introduce little Bronica to everyone. Y'know properly."

"The choice is yours."

Eggabell curls up in Floofty's cot. She is tired. Exhausted, really. Floofty digs out a spare quilt, draping it over Eggabell. If she did spend time on the mountain, she'll appreciate being warm and comfortable. 

Floofty can't sleep. They step outside, taking a walk around Snaxburg to collect their thoughts. Perhaps they've been too harsh on Eggabell. Sentiment brought her back to Snaxburg, so it can't be all that bad.

Floofty finds a suitable stick, prodding the embers of the campfire idly, stoking them.


End file.
